


Flow

by shycatdreaming



Series: Inspired [3]
Category: Megamind (2010)
Genre: Angst at the beginning, Dancing, F/M, body shape angst, fluffy eventually, it doesn't matter the appearance or the steps, some role reversal with setting reversal, what matters is the dance, when you are in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 11:18:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14747826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shycatdreaming/pseuds/shycatdreaming
Summary: In another place, two souls still find each other. But even on a different world, insecurities remain - as does support.





	Flow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [setepenre_set](https://archiveofourown.org/users/setepenre_set/gifts).



> Two inspirations for this fic:  
> First, there is the [photoset](http://sixpenceee.com/post/173592624049/julie-gautier-french-deep-sea-diver-dancer-) of [Julie Gautier](http://juliegautier.com/)'s underwater dancing in her film AMA (which is amazing and you should totally check out RIGHT NOW on her site).  
> Secondly, even though they've only just mentioned a few inspirations there's the promise of [Setepenre_Set](https://archiveofourown.org/users/setepenre_set)'s "No Black Hole" Megamind AU, which would take place on his planet. The name "Ivaritel" is their creation, as well as the small bit of [M'ega language](https://setepenre-set.tumblr.com/post/166704585019/words-from-the-mega-language-part-1) I shamelessly reuse whenever I can.

Roxanne tried not to bite her tongue, tried not to swallow it. She tried to focus on the dance before her, on just the beauty, and not the jealousy rolling in her stomach. 

As a child she’d once seen a mermaid show, women dancing under the water while taking breaths from available hoses. At the time she’d thought their movements, even hampered by their costume tails, beautiful. 

It had been nothing compared to this. 

The soloist swirled and flipped, her costume balanced to keep her neutrally buoyant within the crystal clear pool so all her rising and falling was utterly under her control. 

A distant part of Roxanne’s mind noted superficial similarities to Earth ballet; there must be some forms of beauty in movement inherent to bipedal creatures despite the light years separating them. 

She heard the audience seated with her in the glass auditorium 

_(they could have survived in the water with the dancer, survived just as she did through the subcutaneous breathing the M’ega still possessed, but it was considered impolite to have the audience share a professional dancer’s water and potentially disrupt her currents)_

____

____

_(they could have… Roxanne could not have… she was not stuck in this glass box as a mockery, she was there with other guests…)_

_(she was not a mockery…)_

She heard the audience seated with her in the glass auditorium gasp at a particular move, graceful and resembling an Olympic diver, but with swirling hands and arms and beauty. All slender limbs and gorgeously shaped skull and perfect blue skin and breathing underwater and everything she was not, everything she could never be, never be for him… 

She felt Ivaritel cover her hand with his 

_graceful long blue so perfect so gorgeous_

own hand and she stiffened, feeling caught. 

She would have stopped breathing, but apparently at some point she’d already done that and was beginning to feel lightheaded. 

“Are you all right?” Ivaritel leaned over to whisper, his breath against her 

_pink spotted porous_

skin like a caress. 

She tried to nod; she tried to swallow down the jealousy, the bitterness, the resignation. 

How could he want her, so alien, so - so FAT, so - 

Not M’ega. 

“Do you need to get some air?” 

Did the weak air breather need more air, so weak, so weak… 

She tried to shake her head in negation. 

Ivaritel squeezed Roxanne’s fingers, eyes darting between her and the target of her own fixed gaze, the dancer completing her solo. 

He couldn’t understand what was wrong - Was she ill? Were there too many people in this room, did she truly need more oxygen and was feeling suffocated? 

Her shoulders were hunched in on themselves, her mouth an unhappy droop; all signs of discomfort, but there was nothing that appeared obvious to explain why they were there. 

Within the pool the dancer held her final move, and the audience tapped their feet in approval against the glass floor so the sound would transmit into the water for her to hear. 

Roxanne did not tap, despite the practice being explained to her and something she’d done herself earlier during a group dance. 

The dancer gazed back into the audience’s chamber and nodded, her classically beautiful features professionally neutral. 

Beautiful… 

Ivaritel wanted to slap his leg to chastise himself for having missed the obvious - of course that was what was wrong. Despite the fact he himself kept forgetting about it, it appeared Roxanne had not yet given up her self-doubt. 

“Come on,” he whispered to his beloved, tugging her hand slightly to have her stand. 

Roxanne gaped at him, confused, and he could hear the slight shift of others turning to watch them. 

“But - the next performance…” she protested, nevertheless rising. 

Ivaritel shook his head with a small smile. “There’s something else I want to do.” 

Oh, but his beloved truly was feeling despaired, since she was following him without any protest, sharp remark, or even question. He led her out of the glass audience chamber and into the dark and currently empty connecting hallways. 

Once they were alone in the enveloping darkness Ivaritel pulled Roxanne close, his hands lightly grasping her 

_full lush perfect_

hips. She just looked at him, her mouth still slightly open in confusion, and he held her close enough to whisper to her. 

“Show me again how to dance with you.” 

She blinked, shocked, a flutter of - disgust? Not at his suggestion, but that he would WANT it. 

Oh, his poor, precious, BRILLIANT Roxanne. 

“Show me again how to dance.” He raised a hand to trace delicately across her 

_freckled intriguing so gorgeously warm_

cheek, his face so close to hers his breath ghosted across her own 

_perfect_

mouth. “With YOU.” 

She took and held a breath, her eyes glittering with a sheen of held-back tears. When she didn’t move he took her left hand into his right, lifting it up to the height of their heads; reflexively, she grasped onto his shoulder, and he completed the frame to join them completely. 

“Show me how to dance.” 

Roxanne’s eyes seemed to sparkle with something more than just unshed tears, now, and she took a step forward; he glided his own foot backwards to match her. 

“YES,” he hissed, his eyes glowing as he watched hers, letting her lead him in a four cornered circle. “Yes, Roxanne-alte. Ssshsss….” 

She gasped as he hissed out that he loved her, and he swallowed it, pressing his body against her 

_delicious soft warm perfect perfect perfect_

one from lips to knees. Their steps faltered, no longer following the measure of any dance human or M’ega… 

But in the dark, alone and together, they danced.


End file.
